


My Pearl on Sundays

by Jalules



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Holidays, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-23
Updated: 2011-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 22:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jalules/pseuds/Jalules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your human Christmas is coming, yes?”</p><p> </p><p>In which Dave and Terezi discuss holiday traditions over a late breakfast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Pearl on Sundays

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so I have a headcanon where, should Dave and Terezi be in any kind of meaningful relationship, they would spend a lot of time talking to each other in really sarcastic, overly formal ways. Like Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice, but with more tongue.
> 
> Anyway, have a bullshit Christmas ficlet.

.

.

.

“Oh coolkid, my coolkid.”

Dave looks up from the newspaper he is reading for and only for the Fashion and Lifestyle pages.

And also for a few snippets of the business section but he hides those behind the comics so no one will see.

Terezi is leaning against the doorway dressed in a sweatshirt approximately five sizes too big for her, the clothing underneath a sliver of blue and white raglan tee peeking out between two separated sections of zipper. Her glasses are off, held idly between two fingers, and her eyes are fire engine red, heating coil bright, double gleaming warning signs glowing at him from across the room.

In the light of their hive-home mashup of a kitchen, her horns seem sharper than ever.

She is beautiful.

She is everything he ever could have hoped for in an alien spouse.

“Yes, my dragon princess?”

She smiles, slight, spritely.

“I see you’re still in your lazy-wear,” She comments, and it’s true. His smoking jacket is fastened quite securely around his pajamas. It’s only two in the afternoon and he doesn’t want to be done with breakfast yet, “Your human Christmas is coming, yes?”

Dave makes a show of looking around, checking the calendar, flipping his newspaper over to look at the ‘War on Santa Inadvertently Destroys Nursing Home’ headline on the front.

It doesn’t matter that she can’t see the effort he puts into this, it just has to be done.

“Why yes, as a matter of fact, it is. A matter of days, I think.”

“Good god! We have to hurry then.”

“With, dare I ask, what?”

“Our Christmas cards, of course!”

Dave folds his newspaper and sets it aside, takes up his glass of apple juice instead.

“You want to send out Christmas cards.”

“Of course,” She says, and shifts her weight from one hip to the other, “It’s human custom, isn’t it? I figured we’d just run around and throw them at people since there isn’t a lot of time left to mail them.”

Dave swishes his glass of juice like a discerning gentleman, which he is, watching the liquid swirl and slosh against the sides, before looking back up at his charming matesprit, “Hm. I guess that’s doable. I’ve never been much of a Christmas guy to be honest-“

“The distinct lack of delicious decorations tipped me off-“

“And I don’t know if anybody we know really deserves a heartfelt message scrawled next to a glittery portrait of baby Jesus or a fleet of snowmen-“

“Blegh, no! None of that. I thought we’d make our own.”

Dave raises an eyebrow, still pointless. He sets his glass down and leans back in his chair, watches as Terezi listens for the squeak, creek, “You want us to make our own.”

“Yes Dave, my Hero of Repetition. I was reading all about it online, which as you know is a place where anyone can find all kinds of facts that are one hundred percent true and never at all made up or miscommunicated by coolkids with Wikipedia accounts-“

“Naturally-“

“And there was an article going on about how the most sweet and sincere thing any loving family can do at the holidays is to send each other personalized photo Christmas cards, so everyone can see how blissfully happy they are when they’re surrounded by fake trees and white fluffy things and presents.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. Clearly it is the best course of action when one wants to go about spreading holiday cheer.”

“Of course.”

“So since I assumed you would be totally on board for this I went ahead and set up the camera on your faux spotted beast rug and bought a pair of festive sweaters to wear for our photo.”

Dave leans forward again, focusing on her teeth now as she grins at him, shows every tiny razor fang. He gets up and leaves his chair pushed away from the table, stands before her with crossed arms and an impassive expression, “Festive.”

“Yes,” She says, pleased as punch, “Mine is cherry and avocado, with little nut and chocolate flavored bits on it and I’m not sure what they’re supposed to be. Possibly woodland creatures. Yours is supposed to be snow themed, I think. It tastes mostly like vomit.”

Dave doesn’t know what to say.

He crosses the room in two steps, lays a hand gently on Terezi’s cheek and she leans into the touch, still smiling dangerously, now purring like a kitten.

“You are incredible,” He says finally, and brushes his thumb against her lower lip.

She kisses it, very, very softly.

“I was thinking we could also put a really ludicrous giant candy cane down your pants.”

He kisses her full on the mouth.

She is the best alien troll wife a man could ask for.


End file.
